


Fine Dining in the Streets of Italy (North Italy/Reader)

by e_n_silvermane



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Old Writing, Short but lovely, but it's still good, enjoy :), mysterious air, repost from my deviantart account, sometimes love just be like that, worth a quick read!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:41:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29981640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/e_n_silvermane/pseuds/e_n_silvermane
Summary: You're the type of person to visit the places in postcard photos. He's the type of person to see the sun and stars in your eyes. And in Italy, every moment is full of love and light.
Relationships: North Italy (Hetalia)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Fine Dining in the Streets of Italy (North Italy/Reader)

Venice was a lot more beautiful in person. This was the sort of thing you discovered when you traveled to far away countries that you had only seen pictures of once upon a time - the strange, foreign beauty captured you in an instant, and you were a sucker for the love of the people and culture you never knew growing up.

It was like this when you went to Venice. The old buildings and sculptures and fragmented history and waterways of blue-green greeted you like an old friend. Italy was the very first place you felt really, truly at home. It was wonderful there. The locals were as pleasant as could be, seemingly every day was strikingly beautiful - the sun warm on your back, the water cool and soothing on your hands - and of course, the food was wonderful. But you couldn’t stay there forever. You had a house to get back to, a certain (pet name) who was waiting for your return, and friends who would surely miss you should you choose to stay in Italy forever.

The late afternoon sun seemed to sigh with you, and the gondola you were currently riding in rocked gently in the small waves of the Venetian waterways. ‘Quite therapeutic,’ you thought to yourself. The gondolier looked back at you, his sweetly shining amber eyes dancing over you like the sun crested waves in the water below.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” He asked, oar still making a slow swooping motion below the waves. The gondola moved along, under a stone-arch bridge, and then back into direct sunlight.

“Mhm,” you murmured, your eyes closed, feeling completely at peace with everything in your midst. It was perfect here, no wonder everyone who visited talked about it for hours on end.

“You’ve been here a while?” The man looked ahead to steer his boat carefully down the canal.

“Only a week,” you replied. “I’m going to miss this place.”

“When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow.”

Something inside the auburn-haired man gave a twinge; a sort of wistful longing. He wanted this lady to stay. During the entire ride, he had been thinking of ways to ask her out on a date - he found her overwhelmingly pretty, almost as beautiful as this very city that he had grown up in and loved dearly. Before he could speak again, she opened her glittering (e/c) eyes and asked him,

“What is your name?”

“Feliciano,” He answered. “And you?”

“(Y/n).” you answered. You had no idea what was flying through this young man’s head - a shame, really, you could’ve done with all the compliments, it would’ve been nice to know another’s feelings. But that was not to be helped! You were oblivious, a gentle being he thought of as an angel brought down to him from the heavens. What joy you brought to him in those little minutes he would remember for a lifetime.

“What brought you to Italy?” He asked, looking back at her again, loving the way her (h/c) hair shimmered in the rays of the afternoon sun.

“You know those postcards with pictures of places all over?” She asked him, sitting up and stretching. The sun made her feel lazy - something Feliciano knew from experience.

“Yes, I do.”

She smiled, and his heart fluttered.

“I used to collect those. I told myself that one day I’d visit every place in the stack of cards I kept adding to over the years - and, well, I’ve just gotten started.” She paused here to look around at the buildings. “Everything is more beautiful in real life, I think. The buildings really do look like watercolor, and the people are so welcoming, and the sun and water balance each other out, a thing of nature that touches the soul…” Another pause. Feliciano listened, loving the sound of her voice, the story he wanted to know by heart. “This is only the fifth postcard picture I’ve visited. I’m sure I have hundreds more. But this...this is the only place I’ve wanted to stay.” You smiled up at him, even more happily, with joy evident on your face, and he wanted to belong with you, wanted to be right by your side wherever you went, though he hoped you only stayed here in Venice with him. All this from a gondolier who had met you only half an hour ago. Love was a strange thing, indeed.

“What about you?”

Feliciano took a moment to respond, thinking of all he could tell her.

“Well, I was born here, and I grew up here, along with the red-orange sunsets and blue waterways, and my brother, Lovino. I got my education, and, well, became a gondolier, as you can see!” Cheerfulness, yet some slight falsities. There were, of course, some details of his life that he had to leave out, such as the world meetings and conferences and the fact that he had been alive for much, much longer than she could possibly imagine - him being the embodiment of the very country they were in, that is.

“Tell me a story,” She implored, (e/c) eyes shining with the light of all the suns in the universe. Feliciano couldn’t resist.

“What would you like to hear a story about?”

“Anything.”

Though that didn’t give him much to go on, he began a story about how he had fallen into the Grand Canal when he was little, and his brother Lovino saved him, but complained about it so much afterwards that it was somewhat of a humorous memory.

“My brother Lovino can’t do much without complaining,” Feliciano explained, an amused smile curling upon his lips. “He’s definitely sarcastic, and cynical, but if he really loves somebody, he’ll do anything for them. I knew that as soon as he dove into the canal to catch me.”

The sun was sinking lower in the sky, and the forty-minute ride was almost up. The last ride of the day, actually - sad, but true.

“That was a good story,” She laughed. “I can just imagine what Lovino had to say. I bet he’s an overprotective brother, huh? I don’t have any siblings, but I do have a few friends who like to pretend to be my mother. I do think it’s nice that he cares, too.” You looked at him, with his amber eyes and auburn hair, and you two shared a smile knowingly. Another moment he would never forget.

“Would you tell me more?”

“I would love to, but, ah…” Feliciano was torn between ending the ride because it was past the forty minute mark or continuing on down the slowly darkening canal because you wanted to hear another story.

“But what?” Concern rippled across your features. Feli decided then and there that he liked your joyful expressions more than your worried ones.

“But the ride is supposed to be ending now, otherwise you’ll have to pay more than what you originally wanted, and besides that, Toni will be at least a little bit annoyed if I don’t return to the docks with his boat.” Feliciano paused. “But...well, if it didn’t trouble you at all...I could take you to dinner. My shift ends as this ride does, and I am not really expected home for another couple of hours.”

“Oh, would you?” Your face lit up and in the orange-pink light, Feliciano fell even more in love with this woman, (Y/n), this lady who he sorely wanted to hold close and spend the rest of his life with, this lady who he had one chance, and only one chance, to get to know, to understand, to keep in touch with.

“I would,” He answered truthfully. Your gentle laugh rang like a little bell.

“Where would we go?”

He thought for a moment. “I know a place.”

Soon enough, the two were sat in a quaint little restaurant that was on the balcony of some watercolor-esque building. It was completely dark outside now, the tiniest of breezes chilling the night air - only the orange light from the candles on the table and the more yellow-tinted light of the dining hall behind them. The reason Feliciano had brought you here was so you could meet Lovino, as his brother was the one running the restaurant.

“This is the best night of the week so far,” you said to him, looking around to the streets, then the people in the dining hall, then the other couples at tables around them, then the candles, and then at him. Feli smiled and blushed a little, happy he could make the last night of your stay so meaningful.

“How about some drinks?” A rough voice sounded - rough, but not unkind. You turned to see who was speaking to you, and that was a moment you would never forget - meeting Feliciano’s brother.

“Lovi!” Feli leaped to his feet to give his brother a hug, who protested loudly but finally gave in and hugged his brother back.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Feliciano chirped.

“You saw me yesterday.” Lovino didn’t look amused, but deep down somewhere, maybe it was in his eyes, maybe it was hidden in his voice - deep down somewhere, there was a familial love for Feliciano, and you greatly appreciated that about him.

“You’re right, but it doesn’t change the fact that it is nice to see you,” Feli chided.

Lovino sighed and smiled a teeny, tiny bit. “It’s nice to see you too, Feli. Now, who is this?” He looked at you. You felt at peace in the brothers’ presence, enough to introduce yourself. Usually you were too shy to do so. It was a stepping-stone that eventually led to you becoming more brave and confident - a step onto the path less traveled, but a good road to be on.

“My name is (Y/n),” you said, and smiled so sweetly Feliciano’s heart melted, and Lovino could see it on his face. “You must be Lovino! I’ve heard lots about you already!”

“Oh? Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, (Y/n).” The taller auburn haired man nodded his head respectfully and proceeded to take their orders for drinks and antipasti - appetizers. Feliciano suggested that you try baccalà mantecato, a creamed cod dish with olive oil, salt, and pepper. You agreed, and so you shared your first meal together. It was a night of memories, wasn’t it?

After another course and a small dessert and of course, wonderful conversation and stories, Feliciano held your hand - soft as an angel’s wing! - and waltzed you around the balcony to the far-off music playing somewhere down the canal. At one point, the amber-eyed man shouted, “Play louder!” and just like that, the music came a little bit stronger, felt a little closer. You giggled and danced the night away with Feliciano between blue shadows and yellow-orange light. Somewhere around eleven o’clock, you and Feli said goodbye to Lovino and then the charming gondolier walked his beautiful lady back to her hotel.

“I have to leave tomorrow,” You said breathlessly upon reaching the front doors.

“I know, you told me.” He replied simply, and wished he could stop the tears from building up.

“I don’t want to go,” you whispered, softly, droplets tracing moonlight down your cheek.

“I know,” He wrapped his arms around you and held you for a minute, until you could both catch your breath and calm the tears streaming from your eyes.

“Goodnight, (Y/n),” His voice was so quiet and so broken you felt your heart snap in two.

“Goodnight, Feliciano. Thank you.” The kiss you left on his cheek burned in a melancholy sort of way, and when he could still feel your lips on his face he watched as you ascended the stairs to your room.

The next morning you were gone, and throughout the entire day, he couldn’t pay attention, couldn’t do a thing, because you were missing, and he had let love slip through his fingers.

But one thing kept him going, and that was the picture of you with (pet name), sitting on your front porch - the photo you had slipped into his pocket as you kissed him on that fateful night, the one that held your address on it in black ink that you had put down as he paid for your meal, the one he had found only that morning when he got dressed.

He’d see you again someday, and he knew that as he watched the sunset, you were somewhere else, watching along with him in spirit. Such is fine dining in the streets of Italy - you might meet someone you’ll never forget.

**Author's Note:**

> Old repost from my deviantart account that I thought you all might enjoy :)) Let me know what you think in the comments!! Also let me know if anything needs to be fixed or switched up, it IS super old writing, so I know it can definitely be improved. Anyhoo, hope you have a lovely day, and that good things come your way! :D


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